Daddy Was Wrong
by haveyouseenmyhaggis
Summary: This is the story of Owen's childhood as seen through his eyes since he was six years old, and also through his mother's eyes. Warning: Death, abuse; dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Daddy Was Wrong**

**Author: Paula545**

**Summary: This is the story of Owen's childhood as seen through his eyes since he was six years old, and also through his mother's eyes. Warning: Death, abuse; dark themes.**

**Disclaimer: **_**Torchwood **_**does not belong to me. **

* * *

Maria Harper

_I heard the phone ring in the living room and I set down the pan I was loading into the dishwasher. I sighed and hurried through to the next room and shifted a brightly coloured party hat off the receiver. "Hello?" I said. _

_"Hello…is this Mrs Harper?" _

_"It is, yes," I affirmed while scooping up a discarded piece of wrapping paper that had been left on the floor from last night's birthday party; my only son, Owen, had turned six._

"_I'm DS Travis," said the man's voice on the phone. I frowned slightly._

"_What's happened?"_

"_I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said softly. I instantly panicked. Was my husband, Vincent, hurt? Was he in trouble?_

"_What?" _

"_Your husband…Vincent-."_

"_Is he okay?" I asked at once. _

"_Mrs Harper…I'm afraid…there was a fire in his factory this morning…can you come to the hospital?"_

"_Is he okay? What about my son? He's at school and-," I babbled._

"_Leave your son at the school for the moment, we'll see that he is looked after," DS Travis said to me comfortingly. _

_I tried to fight back the tears as I hung up the phone and searched for my car keys._

I blinked back to the present. I was sitting on the end of my bed rocking gently back and forth. I remembered the burnt complexion of my beloved husband at the hospital and how the doctors had fought to keep him alive with no success. He died at five minutes past three in the afternoon.

My world had shattered around me when they told me. Grief had me in it firm grip; one minute there was sobbing and the next there was denial in my mind.

"Mummy?" Owen said as he walked into the room, "Mummy, when's Daddy coming home?"

"Owen…come here love," I said gently. Owen trotted over to me and scrambled up on to the bed.

"What?" he asked, looking up at me with his dark brown eyes.

"It's Daddy…he's not coming home," I struggled to say.

"But…he said he'd play football with me!" Owen said, looking stung. He didn't really understand what I was saying.

"Owen, honey, he's…he's gone to heaven. He's with Granddad now…remember when Granddad went to heaven?" I said, trying to explain this to a six-year old.

"He's dead?" he asked bluntly. Those words made my heart ache with pain. "Why mummy?" Owen said with tears filling his eyes, "Why? He said he'd be here forever!"

"Well…Daddy was wrong, Owen," I said quietly pulling my boy into a hug. He looked _so _much like his father. How was I going to cope with that? I eyed the bottle of whiskey by the bedside…

* * *

Owen Harper

Things changed suddenly. I didn't like it. My Gran met me from school and took me to her house. She gave me a hug and told me things would be okay.

"Owen, dear, would you like a drink?" she asked when we got to her house.

"No thanks," I said quietly. I was feeling a bit confused, she never usually made such a fuss of me, and why was she looking so upset?

When mummy came to get me I saw at once she'd been crying. There was mascara streaked down her cheeks. It was only later on that I got an explanation.

At first she told me to go and play with my Lego or something but after an hour or so I went through to her room and pushed open the door.

"Mummy?" I asked as I walked in. Mummy was sitting staring into space with a lost expression. I didn't like it, "Mummy, when's Daddy coming home?"

She looked at me as though she'd been stung. She shook her head slightly and forced a smile.

"Owen…come here love," she said quietly. I hurried over to her, pulled myself up beside her and sat on my knees. She didn't even notice I was still wearing my trainers; normally I'd have been in trouble for that.

"What?" I asked feeling something biting at me; I assumed it must be worry.

"It's Daddy…he's not coming home," Mummy said. She stopped to catch her breath as though she'd been running and I stared at her.

"But…he said he'd play football with me!" I said, feeling slightly let down. Another tear ran down her cheek as she tried to explain.

"Owen, honey, he's…he's gone to heaven. He's with Granddad now…remember when Granddad went to heaven?" she said in a strangled voice. I knew what she was getting at.

"He's dead?" I asked feeling my heart racing. Mummy raised her hand to her heart as though she was trying to keep something in place. I couldn't figure out what she was doing. "Why, Mummy?" I asked feeling the tears coming on, "Why? He said he'd be here forever!" He wouldn't lie to me, would he?

"Well…Daddy was wrong, Owen," she said in a bitter tone that scared me. She reached out and pulled me into a tight hug that felt like I was going to suffocate.

She picked up a bottle of some drink and drank out of the bottle; nobody in our house did that, I was always told to use a glass. I knew what the stuff in that bottle did to people. The adults had drunk it at my birthday party last night…it had made some of them all silly, and it was scary. I bounded off the bed and ran off to my room; I'd be safe there. Then I could pretend none of what I'd just heard was real. Of course my daddy would come home! He always did…but what if he didn't?

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**Review? Please?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors's Note: Thanks for all the reviews everyone! It means a lot! Special thank you to mysterypoet66 for the advice on how to make this story better, please let me know if I've done better this time. And to touched-but-unbroken for pointing out my sentence structure mistake in the last chapter. I've been back and changed it now! Thanks everyone!**

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Maria Harper

The next few days passed in a confusing blur of apologies, alcohol and funeral plans. It was hard but it had to be done. It was alright for Owen; he didn't need to do anything but sit and let people ruffle his hair and say they were sorry. I kept him out of school for the moment.

The funeral was a beautiful occasion. There was a huge turn out; family, friends, colleagues, neighbours, his Friday night football team, and there were even people from the town that knew him. I didn't know a lot of the people. I was expected to stand up and say my piece and everyone was watching me. Biting my lip as I looked around, I began to speak.

"Vincent was…he still is…a big part of my life… I loved him. I still love him and I'll never stop loving him and-," I forced the words out until they jammed in my throat and I was left sobbing. I felt a small hand in mine and I looked down and found Owen. He wasn't looking at me but he held my hand.

"It'll be okay, Mummy," he said softly, "It'll be okay."

Owen found a cousin his age to talk to when all the adults were sitting drinking tea later on. I didn't speak to anyone. I didn't want to. I left quickly. I went to get Owen to take him home. I found him sitting in the corner alone with tears streaming down his face. He was clutching his now-broken Yoda toy.

"Why did you break it, Owen?" I sighed.

"I didn't!" he denied adamantly.

"Well, nobody else did." I took his hand and pulled him to his feet and led him to the car.

When I got home I set about locating a stronger drink in the kitchen cupboard. I didn't want to think; I didn't want to remember. I set up a video for Owen to watch. He sat quietly watching that and playing with his other _Star Wars _action figures Vincent had bought him during some Summer Holiday or other. He seemed engrossed in the video so I let myself go with the Vodka.

* * *

Owen Harper

Mummy's stopped seeing me properly. She looks at me but she doesn't see. I wish I could make things normal again; I wish I could make Daddy come back…

The funeral was scary. Daddy was lowered into the ground in a box. I called out to him but he didn't answer; was it that he didn't hear me? Mummy said angels were always there with us…she said they always listen. If that's true, then why won't he _talk _to me?

Mummy cried a lot at the funeral. She was reading something out and she started sobbing. I went to hold her hand just like she used to hold mine when I was scared. She hasn't done that for me in the last few days; nobody has.

It rained when we were outside. The Minister read stuff out of the Bible and lots of people cried. I didn't. I had to stay strong for Mummy; she said that's what Daddy would have wanted.

I cried later though. Everyone sat down to eat and drink but I went to speak to some other kids. Franklin turned out to be a cousin. He was two years older than me and a bully.

"Let me see your toy," he said pointing at the plastic Yoda in my hand. I held him out to show Franklin but didn't let go of him.

"Can I have a shot?"

"No," I replied flatly, "Daddy gave it to me."

"Didn't Daddy teach you to share?" he sneered, "Oh yes! Your Daddy's abandoned you!"

"He hasn't!" I snapped furiously. How dare he insult my Daddy!

"Yeah he has! What did they tell you? That he went to Heaven? Owen, there is _no _Heaven! He's just gone!" Franklin hissed at me. I could feel his breath on my face and I glared at him.

"He's not gone. He still loves me," I insisted; I couldn't believe that Daddy would abandon me.

"He doesn't! Now give me your stupid toy!"

"NO!" I yelled heatedly.

"Why not?" Franklin said, "I'll be your friend?"

"I don't _want _you to be my friend," I stated.

"You idiot!" Franklin said snatching Yoda from my hands. I tried to hit him but he was taller and stronger than me and he pushed me to the ground. It hurt but I didn't tell him that.

"Thanks!" he said mockingly fiddling with my toy.

"Give him back!" I demanded. He just laughed.

"Only babies play with toys!" Franklin said with a smirk. He pulled the head of Yoda and threw him back at me before running off to speak to someone "more interesting". I picked up the pieces and hugged them close. Daddy wouldn't be mad at me, would he? Mummy was…she thought I'd broken it. But I didn't! Why didn't she believe me?

She was drinking that stuff again when she got home. I sat and watched a video and pretended I was okay but really I felt my world falling apart and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to all reviewers! Please carry on doing so!**

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Maria Harper

Things went downhill from the funeral onwards. I was struggling with my job at the shop; I couldn't concentrate on anything. It got to the stage that I'd stop at the local pub on the way home for a drink and I'd stumble home comfortably fuzzy. Owen didn't seem to notice for the first while. I guess he was too young to understand all this.

It was one month after I buried Vincent that I sat in the pub alone drinking myself into a stupor. It was a Friday afternoon and I had had a very bad day at work. I'd been fired. I'd been in the pub for four hours already but hadn't drunk much. All my pain had been numbed slightly but it was still there. I wanted it gone.

A man came up and sat beside me and ordered a drink for himself and "whatever I was having".

"Bad day?" he asked with understanding in his eyes. I nodded meekly.

"Fired," I mumbled.

"I'm sorry," he said, putting an arm around me. It felt good to have a man holding me like that again. I told him everything; Vincent dying, me losing my job, and how I couldn't bare to look at my own child because of his vivid resemblance to his father. I spoke on and on for a long time while he bought in drink after drink.

"I'm here for you if you need me, you know…just a friend to talk to," he said with a warm smile. I felt myself falling for him. I felt guilty but it seemed so right at the moment. I _needed _to feel loved. Before I knew it, my lips were pressed to his and he was kissing me tenderly. My heart fluttered in my chest and for a moment I could pretend that he was Vincent.

"Will you come home with me tonight…?" I asked, my voice tailing off as I waited for his name; now that I'd experienced this type of caring if only for a moment I didn't want to be left alone with my sorrow again.

"Rodger. And of course I will! You need someone to look after you!" he said with a warm smile.

He called a taxi to take us back to my place. I was feeling quite tipsy and I couldn't think properly. I couldn't walk in a straight line but I felt warm. I struggled with the key and the lock before Rodger took it and unlocked my front door for me. We stumbled inside and I stopped suddenly in the hallway. There was already someone in the house – my mother. And she looked like thunder.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" Mum yelled furiously, "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS? AND WHO'S THAT MAN? DID YOU FORGET YOU HAVE A SIX YEAR OLD SON TO PICK UP FROM SCHOOL?"

Crap. I'd forgotten about Owen…

* * *

Owen Harper

Mummy's been getting worse and it's scaring me. She spends too long out of the house. She leaves me on my own with a video or something and I don't like it. Why can't she see I'm hurting? I want things to be back to normal.

She hardly speaks anymore. She's behaves all weird and it scares me. Then she forgot to get me from school. I waited for about an hour with the teacher. She kept asking me if things were okay at home because she said I'd changed in class. She knew about Daddy but she still wanted to ask all these questions. I didn't like it.

We phoned Mummy's work but they said she was no longer an employee or something; does that mean she's lost her job? We phoned her mobile but it was switched off. We phoned home but she wasn't there.

Then we phoned my Granny. She came quickly and gave me a hug and I cried. I was so scared. What if Mummy left me too? I'd be all alone…there'd be nobody there to hold my hand.

Granny took me home after trying to explain that Mummy wasn't well to my teacher. The teacher nodded sombrely and said she was sorry and if we needed anything, all we had to do was ask.

Granny cooked me some pasta and chicken for tea but I wasn't really hungry but I ate it; it was the first proper meal I'd been given at home in a long time. Sometimes Mummy forgot to cook so I went through to the kitchen on my own and found something to eat – yoghurt, carrots, maybe milk. There was always food in the house, Granny made sure of that.

I was scared though. Granny told me she'd be moving to a place called Austria soon, Grandpa got work there. I dunno how far away Austria is…maybe I could go there too. But I don't want to leave Mummy on her own…maybe she could come too?

Granny was furious when Mummy eventually came home at about eight o' clock. I've never heard her shout like that before.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" she yelled, "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS? AND WHO'S THAT MAN? DID YOU FORGET YOU HAVE A SIX YEAR OLD SON TO PICK UP FROM SCHOOL?"

I stared at the man. He was tall with dark brown hair and cold grey eyes. I was scared of him. I didn't like the hungry way that he was looking at Mummy.

"I DIDN'T FORGET!" Mummy shouted, "I…I…." I could tell she was lying. She had forgotten me.

"HE'S YOUR SON, MARIA! YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD! YOU CAN'T ABANDON HIM!" Granny snarled.

"I didn't abandon him!" Mummy protested.

"Yes you did," I said quietly from the doorway.

"OWEN! GO TO YOUR ROOM, NOW!" Mummy shouted. She didn't often shout at me so I ran. I hid in my bedroom and pretended not to hear the argument going on outside. I must have fallen asleep sometime because when I woke up there was sun light shining in the window. The man was still here.


	4. Chapter 4

Maria Harper

"Bye Maria," Mum said hugging me tightly at the airport. Dad shook hands with Rodger before ruffling my hair in the way he had when I was kid.

"Take care, love," he said with a smile.

"I will."

"And we're only a phone call away!" Mum added.

"I know," I laughed. They were worrying about me when they needn't. I had people to take care of me here. Mum and Dad were moving to Austria now. Owen seemed heartbroken.

"Can I come too?" he asked, holding on Dad's trouser leg, "Please?"

"Owen, son, we talked about this! You need to stay and help your mum!" Rodger said scooping him up and hugging him.

"NO!" Owen screamed, struggling in Rodger's grip, "Put me _down_!"

"That's no way to speak to Rodger, Owen!" I said chidingly.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Owen yelled. I sighed; people were staring now.

"Owen, kiddo, maybe you can come and visit now and again?" Dad said taking Owen's hand, "Would you like that?" Owen whispered his reply and I didn't hear what it was but Dad sighed and cupped my son's face in his hands.

"It'll be okay," he said firmly. The announcement for the flight came over the loudspeaker and Mum and Dad had to go.

"We'll phone you as soon as we get there!" Mum said as she gave me one last hug and hurried away.

"LET ME COME WITH YOU!" Owen cried after them. There were tears in his eyes now, "DON'T GO!"

"OWEN STOP IT!" Rodger yelled, "YOU'RE CREATING A SCENE!"

"I DON'T CARE! I'M NOT COMING WITH YOU!"

"YES YOU ARE AND WHEN WE GET BACK I'M GONNA TEACH YOU A THING OR TWO ABOUT YOUR BEHAVIOUR!" Rodger snarled.

"Rodger, let's just wait till we get home. People are staring," I said taking Owen from his arms and setting him on the ground. We decided to grab a bottle of water before we left and we headed towards the small, crowded shop in the airport. I guess it must have been then that he ran off. Airports are busy places and it's only too easy to lose a child.

I felt my blood run cold as I realised he wasn't there. I cast around desperately.

"OWEN?" I yelled, "OWEN? COME HERE!"

"Where is he?" Rodger asked, "FUCKING HELL WHEN I FIND THAT BOY-."

"OWEN!" I ducked out of the queue in the shop and looked around urgently for my son. I couldn't see him anywhere. I ran to the customer services desk and called for an assistant.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" the dark haired, bored sounding women asked.

"It's my son, Owen Harper. He's gone missing," I said frantically.

"Alright, when did you see him last?"

"About ten minutes ago," I said.

"So he's not been gone long?"

"No but he's only six!" I said, tears streaming down my eyes.

"What was he wearing?" the assistant asked, taking notes.

"Um…blue jeans, red hoodie…white Velcro trainers," I replied. It was suddenly very difficult to remember, "Brown hair, brown eyes…probably quite upset. His grandparents have just left for Austria." The woman nodded and pulled out the loudspeaker.

"This is an important announcement, a six-year-old child is missing in the vicinity. Owen Harper. Blue jeans, red hoodie, white trainers. Brown hair and brown eyes. If you see this child please bring him to the customer services desk or alert an attendant. Thank you," the lady said.

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

Owen Harper

I didn't want them to go. Why did they have to go to Austria? I asked Granddad where Austria was…he said it was a long way away. I tried everything to make them stay. I even begged at the airport before they left but they didn't listen. I feel like nobody listens to me anymore.

"Bye Maria," Granny was saying to Mummy as they hugged. I stood quietly by Mummy and tried not to cry. Daddy wouldn't have wanted me to cry. Suddenly, I couldn't contain it any longer.

"Can I come too?" I asked urgently holding on to Granddad's trouser leg. He wouldn't make me stay, would he? Mummy had Rodger now, they didn't want me there.

"Owen, son, we talked about this! You need to stay and help you mum!" Rodger said picking me up from the ground. I hated it when he called me son. I was _not _his son and I never would be. He wasn't my Daddy but he seemed to think he could be.

"NO! PUT ME DOWN!" I yelled furiously at him. I struggled and tried to get him off me. I didn't want to go with him.

"That's no way to speak to Rodger, Owen!" Mummy said but I didn't really care. I would speak to the idiot however I liked. This man had turned my life upside down…again. Yes, Mummy was happy again but Rodger was mean to me.

"PUT ME DOWN!" I shouted. Rodger's grip only tightened around me and I felt humiliated and frustrated.

"Owen, kiddo, maybe you can come and visit now and again?" Granddad said quietly taking my hand in his. To be honest, I didn't want him to let go, "Would you like that?"

"Let me come with you…I don't want to stay," I said sadly. Granddad sighed and took my face in his hands. He wiped away a tear with his thumb.

"It'll be okay," he said comfortingly. Then there was an announcement on the loudspeaker and I stopped hearing things when my grandparents walked away. I found myself crying and screaming but I didn't really care. Maybe that way they'd notice me.

"LET ME COME WITH YOU! DON'T GO!" I called, still fighting against Rodger.

"OWEN STOP IT!" Rodger yelled, shaking me hard to shut me up. It didn't work. I wasn't about to be quiet for the likes of him. "YOU'RE CREATING A SCENE!"

"I DON'T CARE! I'M NOT COMING WITH YOU!"

"YES YOU ARE AND WHEN WE GET BACK I'M GONNA TEACH YOU A THING OR TWO ABOUT YOUR BEHAVIOUR!" Rodger barked in my ear. I felt fear flow through my body and I started crying more than ever; I didn't want him to hurt me. I was scared of him. Mummy said something and took me from Rodger and put me on the ground.

There were people everywhere and I saw my opportunity at once. Mummy led the way towards a little shop and went inside. I didn't. I ran for it. My heart was pounding and I knew I'd be in trouble if I was caught but I wasn't planning on getting caught. I was just going to run and run and run until I found the aeroplane to Austria. Then I'd get on it and I'd be safe again. Rodger wouldn't have to hurt me. He and Mummy would be happy with me out of the way.

I vaguely heard my name on the loudspeaker but I didn't really think about it. I was so focused on running that everything seemed to blur away from me. I dodged my way in between people all on the way to some flight or other. Someone's dog barked me at. A little baby in a pram waved at me. A old man tried to stop me. I tripped over somebody's suitcase and hurt my knee but I got up again and kept running. I spotted a room with some sign on the door. I could read but I didn't stop to do so. I just ran towards it and felt the impact shake my body as the door didn't open. I kicked it and tried to open it. Realising it wasn't going to work, I ran again. I ran and suddenly my feet left the ground.

"Hey, Owen, isn't it?"

"GET OFF ME!" I shouted. The lady had blond hair and she held me tightly.

"Your Mummy and Daddy will be worried about you!" the lady said trying to comfort me.

"I don't…I don't have a Daddy," I mumbled.

"Ah…I'm sorry, honey. Let's get you back to Mummy then?" she said.

"I don't have a Mummy. She doesn't want me," I said.

"I'm sure that's not true. She'll be really worried," the lady said. I didn't have much choice but to let her take me back to Mummy and Rodger. I knew at once I was in for it when I saw the look on Rodger's face.


	5. Chapter 5

Maria Harper

Rodger was brilliant. He helped me find myself again after I'd been torn to pieces by the death of my husband. Of course, I still loved Vincent but he was gone and I had to move on. Rodger showed me that.

Owen wasn't very sure of Rodger; he always seemed on edge around him and there was always a fearful look in his eyes. I couldn't see anything wrong in the relationship so I asked Rodger to move in with us.

He worked for some big company and had enough money to support us. He helped me find a job too. I remember one day when I was out job hunting, Rodger stayed at home to look after Owen and when I came home my new lover told me of all the fun they'd had. Owen just mumbled and nodded; but that's what kids do, right?

Owen was a fairly independent kid. He didn't mind when Rodger and I went out or if we wanted to have a night together. He just nodded mutely and went to his room. If he did mind, he never said anything.

A year and half after Vincent's death I felt my life was finally back on track. It was great. I got a job as a receptionist…which was why I had to go to work after the incident at the airport. Rodger told me he'd look after Owen. I trusted him and went to work.

I really felt that I had life back; a job, a lover, a family.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Rodger told me when I came home from work; he often said things like that. It was little compliments like that that made me feel better about things. "I'm sorry for shouting at the airport."

"It's alright," I said with a smile, "How's Owen?"

"He'll be okay. He got in a mood and tripped over something in his room and hurt his arm. He's sulking now. Silly boy," Rodger said as he planted a kiss on my lips.

"He's okay though?"

"He will be. Once he stops sulking about stupid little things," Rodger said, rolling his eyes. I smiled.

Just then Owen's bedroom door opened and he looked out at us with wide, tear-stained eyes.

"Mummy?"

"Go to your bed, Owen!" Rodger barked.

"I want Mummy," Owen said mumbled, "My arm hurts."

"It's your fault. Now go back to your bed," Rodger demanded.

"NO!"

"Remember what I told you?" Rodger snarled, "GO!"

"NO!"

"OWEN! DO WHAT YOUR DAD SAYS!" I yelled furiously.

"HE'S NOT MY DADDY!" Owen yelled back. He slammed his bedroom door and I sighed. Of course Rodger wasn't his Dad. I let Rodger lead me through the kitchen and I sat down at the table.

"Why can't he accept you?" I asked quietly, looking up at Rodger.

"I don't know. He's just stubborn and he's having a strop," Rodger sighed casually as he handed me a large glass of wine. Alcohol always made me sleep at night…I didn't really care that it was a bad habit. It stopped me dwelling on other horrors at night.

* * *

Owen Harper

I wanted someone to help me. _All _I wanted was for someone to help me but nobody came. My Grandparents hopped on some stupid flight to Austria and left me here on my own. Why did they do that? Why couldn't they have taken me with them? I wouldn't have caused any trouble!

Rodger was furious at me for running away from him. The lady at the airport took me to a desk and Mummy was waiting there crying. I didn't want her to cry but I also didn't care. She didn't really want to get me back.

"OWEN!" she wailed as she hugged me, "Don't _ever _do that again! You hear me? Please!" I didn't say anything. I didn't want to say anything. Then Rodger came back.

"YOU STUPID BOY!" was the first thing he said to me. I glowered at him and he sighed and put on the fake "oh-I-was-so-worried" look. I hated it when he did that.

"Let's get out of here," Mummy whispered.

So, before I knew it I was in the backseat of the car and Mummy and Rodger were having some discussion or other in the front. I didn't really care what they were saying. I sat quietly and ignored them. I wished we could keep driving and driving and I'd never have to speak to them again. Oh, how I wished they'd leave me alone.

It was worse when we got home. Mummy had to go out to work so she left me alone with Rodger.

"Come here, Owen," he hissed as soon as she was out of the door. I felt sick. I wanted to hide. I stayed frozen in my bedroom until he came storming in. "Didn't you hear me, boy?"

I didn't reply.

"Lost your tongue have you?"  
Nothing.

"SAY SOMETHING BOY!" he yelled furiously, his hands forming a fist at his sides.

"GO AWAY!" I shouted. It was stupid and I paid for it. Rodger darted forwards and grabbed the front of my t-shirt. He slammed me up against the wall so my face was level with his. I felt dizzy and I couldn't feel the ground beneath me.

"Don't you _ever _say that to me again," he snarled quietly. I tried to nod but I was too paralysed by my own terror and the fact that he had me pinned up against the wall.

"Don't you _ever _run away from us," he said dropping me to the floor again.

"I won't," I mumbled, crouching down against the wall in fear. I didn't want him to hurt me.

"Anything could happen to you if you go wandering off like that!" he said, "You just shut your mouth and do what you're told or I'll hurt you, right?"

"Daddy never said that," I mumbled, more to myself than to him.

"YOUR "DADDY" IS DEAD, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" Rodger exploded. His face was red with anger and he was biting his upper lip. He knelt down to my level again and glared at me.

"But-,"I began. He gave me a cruel smile.

"But what?"  
"But Granny said…"

"What did Granny say?"

"She said he was in heaven…and he was looking after me…" I whispered as tears welled up in my eyes.

"She told you that, did she?"

"Yes."  
"Well she's wrong, Owen," Rodger laughed.  
"NO! SHE'S NOT! YOU'RE A STUPID IDIOT AND I WISH YOU WOULD DIE AND-." I saw his fist flying towards me and raised my arm to hide my face. I felt the impact and cried out. It hurt. I really, really hurt. Then he went away. He left me to cry on my own in my bedroom. Nobody came to give me a hug or anything. Nobody.


	6. Chapter 6

Maria Harper 

There's been a definite change in Owen's behaviour since Rodger came to live with us. That was a year and a half ago now and my son has been less outspoken in his house. When he is spoken to, he either snaps at us or doesn't say much.

He's stopped asking to bring friends home but he does still go round to visit his best friend, Jasper. His seventh birthday was hard for me because the day after it would have been a whole year since Vincent had died. Owen didn't seem to mind that we didn't have much of a celebration. Maybe he was feeling sad too? I just don't know what goes on in that boy's head anymore.

Owen's schoolwork is slipping a bit. His last report card said he was "easily distracted and could do with more concentration". He used to be a good pupil but now? He's changed more than I can say. I wanted to speak to Rodger about this and see what we should do to help him.

"Rodger?" I said as I loaded the dishwasher after dinner.

"Yes, honey?"

"I was wondering…well. About Owen," I fumbled for the words to explain.

"What about him?"

"I'm worried about him, Rodger. He's changed and I'm scared."

"He's growing up. That's all," Rodger said putting a comforting arm around me.

"I think there's more than that…he just doesn't seem to relax at home. I don't know what to say to him anymore. He looks at me like he's worried I'll leave him or something. And you? He doesn't…I think he's just downright terrified of you!" I said. Rodger sighed and there was something angry in his eyes.

"I don't think he ever came to terms with Vincent dying," he said softly, "He's not as strong as you." I smiled slightly at that.

"He seems to be hiding something from us. He shouted at me when I told him to take his jumper off the other day. He won't let me help him wash his hair or anything…" I said. It was true. He was pushing me out more and more, "You don't think he's being bullied at school, do you?" I voiced my concerns out loud. Rodger seemed to relax a bit once I'd said that.

"I don't know. He might be. You could try talking to him? Or his teacher?" Rodger suggested as he held me in his arms. I nodded.

"Yeah…yeah, I think I'll do that," I said, "I'll go speak to him now." Rodger smiled and let go of me. I walked slowly towards Owen's bedroom and knocked on the door. I suddenly realised how little I was in there. He didn't speak to me when I was there so there was no point staying. I only ever went in to tell him it was bedtime, bath time, dinnertime, time to get up for school…just following a schedule. I never really noticed how badly this room needed a good tidy up. Owen did some himself but he _was _only seven so he couldn't be expected to do much of it.

"Hey, Owen," I said walking into his room and smiling. Owen looked up at me, alarmed.

"Mummy?"

"Just thought I'd come and say hello," I explained sitting down beside him on the floor. He was drawing a picture, "Can I see?"

"No," Owen replied bluntly, moving his drawing into a plastic wallet that he'd always stored his paper and stuff in.

"Okay," I said resignedly, there was no point arguing, "Is everything okay, honey?"

"Yes," he said but he didn't meet my eyes when he said it. I saw the pain burning there and I so badly wanted to make it better; a mother always does.

"Owen, you _can _talk to me, you know that, right?" I told him, pulling him into a hug.

"I know."

"Is everything okay at school?" I tried again,

"Yes," he lied again, "It's okay."

"Really?"

"Yes," he insisted.

"Well…" I sighed, and then I was struck by an idea, "Owen?"

"What?"

"How about we go to the cinema on Saturday?" I suggested. Owen's face lit up.

"What? Just me and you?" he asked hopefully. I suddenly felt bad for Rodger…Owen was pushing him out again.

"If that's what you want," I said smiling.

"Yeah!" Owen said, smiling back. It felt like a long time since I'd seen him smile.

* * *

Owen Harper 

It's been a hard year and a half. I feel like I'm being pushed out in my own family. Mummy only ever has time for Rodger and I feel like some sort of spare part.

My birthday was horrible. Mummy got drunk. So did Rodger. I went through to the kitchen at about ten in the morning and found her with her head resting on the table and her chair pushed back.

"Mummy?"

"'Ello Ow'n," she muttered stupidly.

"Mummy? What's wrong?" I demanded.

"Nothin's wrong, honey!" she insisted, "I'm jus'…jus' havin' a drink!"

"That stuff's stupid. Why do you drink it?" I asked, walking over and clambering up into a chair beside her.

"'Cause it's good!" Mummy slurred. Her breath smelt of some evil concoction.

"It's not."

"Ow'n…go watch a video or somethin'" she said, waving a hand at me. I watched her for a moment.

"You forgot my birthday," I said bluntly. I jumped off the seat and run back through to my bedroom, I didn't want her to see I was upset. I sat down on my bed and pulled out my pens. I couldn't find any paper so I drew on the wall, just above my pillow. I drew a man. He had short, brown hair like mine. He had happy, brown eyes like mine. He was wearing a Manchester United football shirt because he always liked watching their games. He was smiling. I smiled back at him. Then I wrote in big, blue letters beside him "Daddy". Daddy wouldn't have forgotten my birthday, would he? He'd keep me company when Mummy forgot about me.

I was always careful to hide my picture when people were in the room. I covered it with a pillow. That's why Mummy didn't see it that time she came into my room to speak to me. She kept asking all these questions about school, and if I was okay. I just told her I was.

Then she asked me to go to the cinema with her! I wondered if she maybe did want to look after me still? Maybe she did still love me? I just hoped it would all go well.


	7. Chapter 7

Maria Harper

I kept my promise to Owen and took him to the cinema the next day. Rodger didn't really mind that it was going to be just my son and I; he said he had paper work to catch up on from work.

We caught the bus to the cinema at eleven o' clock on Saturday. For the first while Owen was on edge. It was as though he was waiting for something to happen and ruin the day but after a while he started to relax.

"So, what you been up to at school?" I asked, trying to start a conversation with him.

"Oh…not much," he said dismissively as he looked out the window at the passing cars, "But we did start a project on Egyptians!" he added, perking up a bit.

"Wow! I liked learning about them when I was at school," I said. It was true; I'd always loved anything to do with History.

"We were talking about Egyptian mummies yesterday," Owen said before carrying on and telling me all about them. It was the first time we'd properly spoken in a very long time and it felt good.

When we got off the bus it was horribly humid weather and the sky was grey and moody. We didn't really mind it so we carried on to the cinema.

It was a good film we saw; a children's film but it was entertaining on an adult's level too. Owen giggled along with the other children in the room.

"Maria?" someone called at the end of the film. I looked around quickly and spotted a chestnut haired, hazel-eyed woman in the row behind. I hadn't seen her in a very long time.

"Hi Sally," I said with a forced smile to my friend as she met us on the stairway out of the cinema. I was certain she'd be mad at me for not really making any effort to contact her or even return her calls. I just hadn't wanted to speak to anyone outside my house for a very long time and when Rodger came along I was happy enough sorting out affairs in my household.

"How are you?" she asked then.

"Oh…you know. Just taking Owen out for the day," I said, "Saturday is a day for just Owen and I, isn't it?" Owen started at me in confusion. This was the first Saturday in months that we'd been out together.

"That's good," Sally said, not noticing Owen's reaction, "How about you give me a call sometime and we can go somewhere? Maybe we could go to the park with the kids?" Her daughter, May, was standing beside her.

"Yeah," I nodded, "Yeah, that'd be good."

Maybe if I was finally getting though to Owen and I'd found my friends again, my life really would get much better.

When we got home Owen fell silent again on the journey. He looked thoughtful and hopeful. I didn't ask him what he was thinking about and he didn't tell me.

Rodger was waiting with a kiss and a cuddle when I got through the door. Owen looked crestfallen for some reason.

"Good day?"

"It was," I said smiling at him, "We had fun, didn't we Owen?"

"Yep," Owen said looking warily at Rodger. As I started to tell Rodger about our day over a glass of red wine, Owen crept back through to his bedroom.

* * *

Owen Harper

The cinema was great. It was a really funny film and even Mummy laughed. I haven't heard her laugh in a long time. She even met one of her friends there. She used to have friends round all the time before Daddy…before Daddy went away. It all stopped after that happened. Everything seemed to come to a stop after that.

It was good to speak to Mummy properly again. She wasn't crying and she wasn't drunk; it was just like things used to be. For a while I could pretend that the last year and a half hadn't happened and it was just that Daddy was at work. He'd be waiting at home when we got back ready to hug me and tell me it had all been a horrible nightmare; not real and not able to hurt me.

He'd tell me Rodger was a monster my imagination had created and he'd laugh as he told me about how he had locked Rodger in a cage and swallow the key before putting the cage in a lion pit.

He'd tell me he'd never leave me. He'd tell me he'd never die. He'd be here forever and he'd always be there to help.

But he wasn't there. Rodger was there. As he always is.

I felt slightly let down but I knew that was silly; I shouldn't have allowed myself to pretend like that. But pretending had made things easier. I could hide and tell myself that Daddy was coming back…but he never would. He _never _would.

There was a thunderstorm that night and it woke me up. It was nearby too.

"MUMMY!" I called, feeling scared. She didn't come. Maybe she didn't hear me? If she did hear me, she was probably too drunk to care.

The thunder rumbled again overhead and I felt the tears coming. I didn't _want _to cry. I wasn't scared. I was old enough to cope with thunder…but it was loud and I didn't understand it.

"MUMMY!" I cried again, frantically this time. Nothing. She didn't come. I thought I'd go and turn my light on so I clambered out of my bed and stumbled over to the light switch. I climbed up onto a chair to get it but when I flicked the switch nothing happened. There'd been a power cut.

"MUMMY!" I pleaded against the door in the dark. Suddenly it was thrown open and I fell to the ground. Rodger was silhouetted in the doorframe and he looked furious.

"You'll wake your Mum with all that noise," he growled at me, crouching to my level. I could smell the drink on his breath. "What you crying about? You're not scared are you?"

"No," I said weakly.

"Then why ya cryin'?" he mocked, "Stop it…before I really give you something to cry about.

"But-."

I felt his hand collide with my cheek and I cried out in pain. I curled up in the corner and cried, even though he was still there. I didn't want him to hurt me but I couldn't hold it together. I woke up in that corner the next morning with a red mark on my face from where he'd hit me. Mummy was told I'd fallen out of bed.

There were so many lies in the house…I wanted so badly to tell her the truth but Rodger had forbidden it. I was so, so scared and there was nobody there to understand.


	8. Chapter 8

Maria Harper

Things followed the same pattern for the next few years. Rodger was always there for me and I loved him for that. Owen still didn't trust him or speak openly to me. He was ten now and it was his last year of Primary School when his teacher's started asking questions. It was his Year Six teacher that first picked up that something might be wrong at home.

Rodger and I went to Owen's Parent's Night and it was one of the most awkward experiences of my life.

"Hello, you would be Owen's parents then?" Mr Prescott inquired politely.

"Yes, that's right," I said, trying to smile.

"I'm not his Dad though…" Rodger said, "Father-figure would be the word I'd chose."

"Ah yes, so you would be Rodger?" Mr Prescott asked, curiously.

"Yes," Rodger replied, "Why? Does Owen talk about me?"

"Hmm," Mr Prescott answered in a non-committal mumble. Rodger's eyebrows knitted together in suspicion but the teacher didn't elaborate on the subject, "Well…we're here to talk about Owen."

"Yes. I believe so," Rodger said bitterly. I shifted uncomfortably in the plastic chair behind the teacher's desk.

"I can safely say that Owen has a firm grasp on most things we've studied this year. As you'll probably know, his exams are coming up soon and I just thought I'd highlight the topics he needs to be careful with," the man said. I nodded away as he reeled of a short list of things I should be encouraging Owen to take particular care over.

When that was over, Mr Prescott looked at us studiously for a moment.

"I notice sometimes Owen seems a bit withdrawn in class at times. It's only natural for a child who has lost a parent to have difficulty talking about family-."

"What are you getting at here?" Rodger demanded, "Owen has a perfectly stable household. We both look after him and he has everything he wants.

"Please, sir, let's keep this civil. I was just pointing out that Owen seems to hide a lot of things from people. He keeps to himself to himself and puts up a brave front but when he thinks nobody's looking…it's a different story entirely."

"The boy can just behave himself. He goes to school to learn, not to get the sympathy vote from his prying, nosy teachers," Rodger snarled.

"Rodger!" I said quietly, "Enough."

"Well, if this bastard thinks he can accuse us of not looking after that boy, well, he's got another thing coming!" Rodger hissed.

"I am _not _trying to accuse you of anything!" Mr Prescott insisted, "I'm just trying to get the best out of my pupils!"

"Well then, leave him be and don't go meddling in affairs that don't concern you!" Rodger snapped before standing up and storming from the room. I muttered a brisk apology to the teacher before hurrying out of the room. We stopped on the way out to find Owen's tray of schoolwork that we were meant to read. Rodger sat in on of the seats by the wall and seethed. I flicked through pages of sums and grammar exercises before coming across a blue jotter titled "Story Drafts". I looked at it curiously before pulling it out and reading over some of the essays.

Owen was a good writer; I'd never known that before. I found a piece with the title "Heroes". The task was written in Owen's handwriting at the top of the page: "Write a fictional story about heroes."

Interested, I read on. His teacher had underlined all his spelling and grammar errors as the piece went on.

"_Ollie walked home alone again. All he was doing was thinking. A football bounced passed but he didn't react. He was too busy thinking about his life. _

_His Dad…his Dad had died when he was just a kid. He'd always looked up to him and respected him. In other words, he was his hero. His Dad had always been there for him until the day he just didn't come home. That was __wen__ things had changed for Ollie, for that was his name. _

_His Dad used to take him to the __parc__ and they'd play football for hours __befor__ going home for tea. His Mum would always be __their__ with a smile and would laugh as they told her about the games they'd played. _

_His Dad had always fended off the bullies when they'd thrown stones at him in the play area. He'd shouted at them and told them "Never to hurt his boy or they'd be in trouble." _

_Ollie smiled at the memories of his Dad. He'd never really understood why he'd had to go. A car-crash…that's what he'd been told and that's all there really was to know. _

_Even when his Mum got a new boyfriend, Ollie remembered his Dad. Even when her new boyfriend, Rupert, hit him and shouted at him Ollie knew his Dad would be there to look after him. _

_His Mum got drunk often and she was usually __two__ drunk to care what her boyfriend did to her son. She never even noticed. _

_When Ollie reached his house he walked slowly up the driveway knowing only too well that his Mum was working and the only person that was going to be home would be Rupert. Ollie felt his heard pounding as he opened the door and walked inside. _

"_Your__ late boy!" came an angry shout. Ollie sighed. _

"_No I'm not," he retorted. Rupert came storming through the house looking furious. _

"_DON'T YOU __CONRIDICT__ ME YOU STUPID BOY!" he yelled, his face turning red. Ollie stared at him in horror as he walked over to him and raised a fist. _

"_Don't!" Ollie begged but Rupert didn't listen. _

_Later on when Ollie was in his room, he looked at the new bruises on his arms that his Mum would be too drunk to notice and cried. Then he looked at the old picture of his Dad he'd __scribled__ on the wall when he was younger and sighed. His Dad would like to see him crying. Ollie was going to have to be a hero…just like his Dad because heroes didn't cry. Heroes were brave. Heroes were strong. Heroes were everything his Dad had been…everything his Dad still was."_

I fought back tears as I read this. I had a strong suspicion that this wasn't entirely a work of fiction…I recognised a lot of the story to be our lives…

* * *

Owen Harper

Nothing changed over the next few years. Mum continued to get drunk. Rodger continued to hit me. I longed for the day it would all stop but I knew that could be a long, long way away.

In Year Six, Mum and Rodger went to my Parent's Night and came home with a photocopy of one of my stories. When I realised what it was fear took over my whole body. I hadn't been expecting them to read that…I hadn't wanted them to read that. Well, in a way I did. Maybe then Mum would realise she'd hadn't really been great to me and throw Rodger out…but that was wishful thinking. Mum was too scared to leave Rodger; it would mean she was alone and "unloved" or something.

"Owen?" she said quietly the evening they came home from my Parent's Night.

"What?" I asked as she came in and shut the door behind her. She told me all about what Mr Prescott had said to them and then unfolded the photocopy of my story "Heroes".

"This is a good story," she said smiling encouragingly.

"Hmm," I mumbled.

"You got good marks for it," she complemented. I could tell she wasn't just there to talk about my good marks.

"Yeah…" I muttered.

"And I was wondering…is there anything bothering you?" she asked, "It's just…the bit about Ollie's Dad…that sounds a lot like your Dad." There we go. She was asking questions but I knew she didn't really want to know the truth.

"You're meant to take aspects of life and turn it into fiction," I said shrugging and not meeting her eye, "That's what Mr Prescott told us."

"You sure that's all?"

"Mmm," I replied. I didn't want to hurt her with the truth. I couldn't do that to her…even if I did want all my own pain to stop.

Mum was working nightshift that night…and Rodger, as I'd expected, came through to my room and he hit me across the face before I'd even had a chance to speak.

"YOU STUPID BASTARD!" he shouted at me, "ARE YOU REALLY THAT MUCH OF A PRAT TO TALK ABOUT STUFF LIKE THAT IN A SCHOOL REPORT? YOU'LL GET PEOPLE ASKING QUESTIONS! THEY DID ASK QUESTIONS AND NOW YOU'VE UPSET YOUR MUM! SHE THINKS SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH YOU!"

I stared defiantly at him and then looked at the ground. I didn't say sorry. I would _never _say sorry.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N - DARKER THAN USUAL CHAPTER AHEAD. BE WARNED.**

* * *

Maria Harper

I was very worried about Owen after I found that story he'd written. Concern for him was playing on my mind all the while I was at work that night. Eventually I told my boss I was ill and went home. I wish I hadn't. I really wish I hadn't gone home because then I wouldn't have to deal with what I found when I got there.

I opened the door and instantly heard Owen crying in his bedroom. I bit my lip and reached out for the handle and pushed the door open carefully. I screamed.

"_Owen!_!" I sobbed running forwards. Rodger was standing over my boy with his fist raised, "Get away from him!"

"Maria, baby!" Rodger said turning away from Owen, "I wasn't expecting you home so soon!"

"I can bloody well see that!" I yelled furiously.

"Mum! Stop it!" Owen begged, wide-eyed and terrified. Rodger had burst Owen's lip and I was yet to discover how they were planning on keeping this from me.

"Owen? Owen are you okay?" I asked, kneeling down beside him and trying to take his face in my hands to inspect his lip.

"Mum, get off," Owen protested, looking warily at Rodger. I looked up and saw the man that had shown my through so much grief towering over me. I stood up and took a step back.

"How long has this been going on?" I demanded. Rodger frowned. His face was flushed crimson with anger and I flinched away as he took a long stride towards me.

"You never thought to ask about your son," Rodger hissed at me, "You never figured out what was going on?" He was circling me like a hungry vulture. Owen was crouched against the wall and tears were flowing freely now.

"Owen, get out," I said firmly.

"No!" Owen protested.

"Owen!" I snapped. Whatever Rodger was about to do to me was nothing I wanted my son to see.

"Mum…" Owen said, looking so frightened that my heart ached, "Don't let him hurt you…" Suddenly I could see that Owen hadn't told me that Rodger had been hurting him. He hadn't wanted to hurt me…I suddenly felt my heart shatter to pieces and I wanted so badly to take back the last few years and make things right. I'd stop Vincent going into work and then everything would be okay. None of this would have happened…none of it.

"Get…out…boy…" Rodger hissed. Owen didn't move. Rodger grabbed his collar and flung him from the room. Owen collided with the wall at the other side of the hall with a thump and didn't move again.

"Owen!" I cried out desperately but Rodger had slammed the door.

"You won't tell anyone what you saw," Rodger hissed in my ear as he pressed me up against the wall, "Will you?"

"But-."

"If you tell, they'll lock you up for being an unstable alcoholic and they'll take Owen away from you…" he snarled, "And you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Why are you doing this?" I whimpered, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.

"Because I don't want to lose you," Rodger said as he pressed a kiss to my lips. I pulled away.

"Don't take that attitude with me. You don't care about us!"

"Oh, I care," Rodger said, "I love you. Maybe not that little brat of yours, but I love you."

"Is this what love is? Hurting the people I care about?" I asked, desperately.

"I'll show you what love is," he snarled, kissing me fiercely and pressing my hard up against the wall.

It was nearly three in the morning before it stopped. Rodger fell asleep and started to snore. I dragged myself up off the ground feeling dirty. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I pulled on my trousers again and covered myself with my torn shirt. Still trembling. I didn't cry then. I still hadn't quite comprehended what he'd just done to me. I padded through the house towards the bathroom.

"Mum?" Owen's voice came from the darkness, "Mum, why's he doing this?"

I had no answer to give him.

* * *

Owen Harper

It had to be one of the worst nights of my entire life. Rodger hit me and shouted at me and I couldn't do anything to stop him. I was ten years old but I still wasn't old enough to defend myself.

"Would anyone notice if you were dead? Huh? Would anyone care?" Rodger spat at me as he kicked me in the stomach. I cried out in pain and curled up smaller on the ground in an attempt to lessen the impact on my body. Rodger reached down and grabbed my throat and pulled me to my feet again before striking a blow to my face and I felt blood trickling down my chin from my lip.

Then suddenly the door opened. My heart sank. I didn't want her to see me like this! I didn't want her to know what Rodger was doing to me.

"_Owen_!" Mum cried, her eyes filling with tears at once. I didn't want to listen to what was being said so I slumped down the wall and cowered on the floor. All I knew was that Mum was arguing.

"Mum!" I whispered, "Stop it!" I didn't want her to get hurt. If she tried to help me, she'd get hurt and it'd be my fault. It'd be my fault for making Rodger hate me so much. She darted over to me and knelt down beside me. She tried to touch my face but it hurt and I didn't want her to.

"Mum, get off," I insisted. Rodger was glaring at us with his chest heaving. Mum stood up and took a step away from me. I watched anxiously but pretended I wasn't there. In my head I tried to imagine I was running in the park with my Dad. Rodger was drowning in a pond…as he should be. I was brought back to the world when Mum told me firmly to get out.

I protested and tried to tell her not to make me go but before I knew it Rodger threw me out of the room. I felt my head collide with the wall and suddenly everything went black.

I woke up sometime later with my head throbbing to hear the sounds of Mum screaming and Rodger laughing. I resisted the urge to shout and go in and help. It'd be worse for the both of us if I went in. I had a pretty good idea of what Rodger could be doing and I covered my ears against the noise. I didn't want hear. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be me. I wanted to be someone else.

I felt myself crying and I pulled my knees up and buried my head, still covering my ears. I tried to distract myself by humming something completely random and tuneless. All I was trying to do was drown out the noise of what was happening in my bedroom.

It must have been the small hours of the morning before the door opened and Mum came blundering out looking terrified. In the dim light I could see her clutching a shirt over her chest and her trousers on back to front.

"Mum?" I probed into the silence, "Mum, why's he doing this?" She didn't reply. She just crumpled to the ground outside the bathroom and sobbed. I didn't know what to do. I tried to hug her but she panicked and pushed me away.

"Mum?" I repeated, "Talk to me!"

"No…not again! Rodger, no!"

"Mum, it's _Owen_!" I said urgently trying to make her understand that I wasn't going to hurt her.

"Owen…" she whispered, raising her head to look at me.

"It's me, Mum," I insisted. Her face crumpled and she started to sob. I got to my feet and ran into her bedroom and picked up the fluffy blanket that she kept on her bed. I wrapped around her shoulders because she was shivering. I curled up against her and tried to ignore the pounding in my own head and the pain all over my body. Mum needed me and I had to be there for her.


	10. Chapter 10

Maria Harper

It must have been about eight o' clock before I really realised what had happened to me. Despair and fear clamped my heart and I cried until there was nothing left to shed. Owen stayed by my side the whole time. He didn't complain or shout at me, as he should have done for being a bad mother to him. For that's all I'd been to him, a bad mother that doesn't deserve a son.

Eventually I got to my feet and, still clutching the blanket around me, stumbled through to the kitchen. Owen followed me slowly and quietly.

"Mum…" he whispered as I opened a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of wine with trembling hands. "Why don't we run away?"

I paused and turned to look at my son. His dark eyes were dulled with terror but glistening with tears. There was dried blood around his mouth and a bruise forming on his cheek.

"Yes…" I said, "Yes…go…Owen, go." I was beginning to feel giddy at the prospect that my son could be safe.

"Not without you," Owen said.

"Please! Just go!" I begged. It was such an obvious plan! Why hadn't I thought of it before?

"Mum, I can't go without you!" Owen told me bluntly, "I don't know where to go. I haven't got any money. I wouldn't be able to buy food or anything." The voice of reason had to ruin everything. But I could get around that.

"Take food…take money out of my purse!" I said, laughing slightly as the plan began to take shape. It was all going to work! Everything was going to be alright! Owen would be safe! I poured myself a large glass of wine and gulped it down. I'd be able to cope so long as Vinc…Owen was safe.

"I can't leave you!" Owen insisted desperately. Why was he arguing? He could be free!

"Vincent…" I whispered, shivering slightly, "Don't go to work…"

"Mum?" the little boy in the room probed.

"Why are you here?" I shouted. Why was he in my house? Vincent was dead, wasn't he? He should be here. I stood up and backed into the wall. "Get out! You're dead! Aren't you?"

"No, Mum! I'm not!" the boy said…then he started to cry. It had to be a ghost then. Vincent was coming back to get me…he must be angry at me for being with Rodger. I started crying too.

"Well you should be!" I snarled. Vincent shouldn't be reminding me of this now.

"Mum!" the boy yelled. He looked _so _much like Vincent. It had to be him. How could it not be?"

"Stop calling me that!" I shouted back, "I'm not your Mum!"

"But…you are! Stop it, please! You're scaring me!"

"Get out!" I yelled furiously. How _dare _he come into my house and try and destroy me like this? Did he really want to hurt me like this?

Just then the door behind the boy opened. Rodger was standing in the doorway. Suddenly, I didn't feel afraid of him. I knew that he'd never leave me when Vincent had. I knew he would never leave me on my own.

"Rodger! Get him out!" I snarled, pointing to the boy crying by the door.

"Gladly," Rodger hissed, grabbing the boy's arm and dragging him out.

"Mum? Mum it's me! Owen! Don't…Mum…help!"

I didn't need his tears. He could cry all he liked but Vincent was fooling me. He could come back and give himself another name but I could never take him back. He was dead and I needed him to stay that way in order to move on. I couldn't have him coming back and tormenting me like this.

* * *

Owen Harper 

I didn't understand. I couldn't find any reason in the whole situation. Why was I sitting out in the street? It was raining and I was getting absolutely soaked but that wasn't a bad thing…it was somewhat cooling and it meant that nobody would see my tears.

It was my fault I was stuck out here. If I hadn't suggested running away she wouldn't have thrown me out. I think she was ill…I didn't know how to help her. Maybe it was shock or something. She was very pale and shivering. Her eyes were out of focus and she was laughing happily at the prospect of running away. It was real laughter but it wasn't the happy sort. It was more sort of hysterical.

"Take food…take money out of my purse!" she'd said laughing and looking as though this was going to be the answer to everything. I couldn't go without her. I wouldn't be able to cope without her. Yes, I hated her at times but she was my mother and I loved her deep in my heart. I loved the memories of a happier time before Dad died and now…now she was different but I could make her better. That's what I'd thought. Of course I couldn't make her better.

"I can't leave you!" I'd insisted, willing her to listen.

"Vincent…" she said then, "Don't go to work…" That had scared me. Vincent was Dad's name. Why was she calling me that? Why was she looking at me as though she was terrified of something I was about to do?

"Mum?" I asked anxiously. I certainly wasn't expecting her face to flush with sudden anger as it did then.

"Why are you here?" she demanded of me. I started at her, unable to see what she was seeing. "Get out! You're dead! Aren't you?" The uncertainty in her voice hurt me. I didn't know what to say to help her.

"No, Mum! I'm not!" I said and suddenly I couldn't hold back the tears. I didn't understand why she was asking me things like that.

"Well you should be!" she snarled at me and that hurt me more than anything had before. It tore me apart more than anything Rodger had done or said…more than Dad dying. Did Mum really feel that way? Did she really not want me here?

Then she shouted at me for calling her Mum and told me she _wasn't _my Mum. All of this was far beyond my understanding and I didn't know what to do. I was scared…and I told her so.

"Get out!" she yelled at me. I blinked in shock and confusion. What? This couldn't be happening. I _couldn't _be hearing this. She was my Mum! She shouldn't throw me out!

I panicked as the door opened behind me. It was Rodger. Maybe the sight of him would make Mum realise she was shouting at the wrong person. To my horror, she didn't seem to remember what Rodger had done to her. She looked genuinely relieved to see him there.

"Rodger!" she said with a thankful smile, "Get him out!" she pointed at me as I stayed by the door feeling terrified and rejected. I'd never felt more alone in my entire life. I'd always been able to convince myself that Mum cared and I knew, deep down, she did. But Rodger had taken her away from me.

"Gladly," Rodger smirked. He grabbed hold of my arm in his vice-like grip and I struggled and pleaded.

"Mum? Mum it's me! Owen! Don't'…Mum…help!" the words came out of my mouth in a confused jumble. All I wanted was for her to see sense and stop this. It was the look of plain fear that she had when she looked at me that hurt. What could I have done to make her hate me so?

Rodger laughed as he dumped me out of the front door. I sat on the doorstep long after the door was closed. I tried calling out tentatively a few times but nobody answered. Nobody cared.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I have to first say sorry to you all because updates may not be as regular as I like. I will update every two to three days hopefully but I go back to school tomorrow and also my access to the computer is limited now. Not ideal but for the next few weeks at least that's how it's going to be. **

* * *

Maria Harper

Rodger took me in his arms and held me close to him after he returned to the kitchen. I cried freely into his shoulder and he rubbed my back soothingly. I was so scared and he was there to look after me now.

"It's alright...he's gone," Rodger said softly. I smiled. Rodger would never let me get hurt by haunting ghosts of my past. Vincent was dead and the dead would never rise again. Rodger wouldn't let them.

"He won't come back?" I asked. I was frightened and I just wanted him to say that I was sage and that nothing could hurt me anymore. Childish it might be but that's what I needed right then.

"He won't come back," Rodger confirmed firmly, "I won't let him."

"Thank you," I whispered as he led me to the seat by the table. I didn't care what Rodger had done to me in the past; he was here now to look after me when the shadows of the past came back to hurt me. He was something to hold onto when the world turned against me. Maybe I didn't believe there was a God in the heavens above but I had something that I could see and touch. I had someone who cared.

"You must understand that I could never want to hurt you," Rodger said gently, "I'm sorry if I did."

"You could never hurt me," I breathed. I couldn't remember him ever hurting me. I couldn't remember _anything. _I didn't particularly want to remember.

"You should get some sleep," Rodger insisted. I nodded and let him lead me through to the bedroom. He tucked me into bed as though I was a small child and I fell asleep almost instantly. I was restless though. My mind couldn't relax and I saw things in my dreams that I didn't want to see...

_"You promise you'll always love me?" a handsome man with dark brown hair and equally dark eyes asked me on a beach on our honeymoon._

_"I married you...therefore I promised I always will love you," I replied with a smile. The man laughed and kissed me. _

_"Maria Harper, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met," he breathed softly, his fingers entwined with mine. _

_"Vincent Harper, I love you more than anyone I've ever met," I replied gently. Suddenly his face twisted with pain and all I could see was fire. There was fire burning everywhere. It engulfed the man I loved until I could no longer see him. He called out to me but I ran. I ran so far and never looked back because I was too scared. _

_Then a little boy, a miniature version of my husband, stopped in front of me. _

_"Mummy...? Where's Daddy? When is he coming home?" the boy asked. He was my son._

_"I...I don't know," I blurted out. The little boy was staring at me in terror. My own little boy was scared of me! How could that be?_

_"Mummy..." he whispered before turning and running. Not it was his turn to run and not look back. I felt my heart pounding in my chest and I felt sick. I couldn't be losing him too! It wasn't fair!_

_Then there was another man standing beside me. He took me in his arms and then he was kissing me. I objected and tried to pull away from him but then he was forcing himself upon me, tearing at my clothes. I screamed. _

I woke up screaming. I woke up confused. I woke up not being able to think through the fog. I couldn't even remember who I was.

* * *

Owen Harper 

Eventually I gave up waiting on the doorstep. It became apparent that nobody was coming. Rodger had stolen my Mum from me. She was sick and he was the only one that was going to be there for her. He would be able to pollute her with his stupid ideas and I'd be forced away from my own family.

I got to my feet and headed down the path towards the street. I didn't know where I was planning to go. I just had to get away from this place. I wasn't wanted. I felt bitterness seeping into my mind as I thought of what God had done to my life. If he was so great why had he taken my Dad from me? If Dad was still with me I wouldn't be struggling to cope through all this darkness.

Then Rodger had come and messed everything up even more. Why? Was it something I'd done? Was God punishing me for some sin or other? Suddenly I felt fear hit me. I shouldn't be having these thoughts...God would probably hear what I was thinking. That's what I'd always been told...but somehow, the thought of a heaven had lost its appeal. What was the point in believing if nothing was there to help me when I needed it? I felt so, _so _alone. It felt like everyone I'd ever cared about had abandoned me.

I could go to a friend's house, I thought as I stood on the pavement with the rain soaking me to the bone. I _could _but then questions would be asked and I'd certainly be taken away from Mum. I'd lose every chance of getting to go back with my Mum. But...but what if I went to the police and said that Rodger was the one at fault and Mum had been nothing but a good mother?

Yes, she'd hate me for taking Rodger away from her but it'd be better for her in the long run? Wouldn't it?

But Mum was ill...she needed help. How could I help her? Rodger had made her ill so maybe taking him away from her would help. It was like those adverts for painkillers..."combat the source of the pain" or something. I decided I'd go to the police and they'd help me. I'd get him out of the way and then Mum had a chance of getting better. I had a plan now. I had something to do now and I was going to do it.


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

Maria Harper

I felt disorientated. I sat in my bed hugging my knees, alone. I didn't really know what was going on around me. It took me a moment to remember where the hell I was. My head felt cloudy and I felt sick.

I had suddenly realised what had happened to me. Rodger…I couldn't believe he'd…he'd… I burst into tears. All I wanted was someone to help me through this screwed up mess that was my life.

All I could remember was the pain and the fear of what had happened but everything other than that was a blur. I'd had a nightmare and I'd woken up again and couldn't remember what had happened after Rodger...after he...

Was Owen okay? He'd hit his head... I had to go to him. I had to go to my son and be a good mother to him for once. What if he was ill? What if he was badly hurt? I struggled out of bed, vaguely wondering how I'd gotten there. I stumbled towards the door ignoring the intense pain in my body.

I reached out and took the handle. I pulled down on it and it was locked. Frantically, I tugged at it and tried desperately to open it. I had to get out of here! I had to get to Owen! Rodger could be hurting him again! I didn't want to think about what would happen. I didn't know what Rodger was capable of. I wasn't sure anymore. Not after...not after he...

"Let me out!" I screamed through my hysterical sobbing. Nobody answered my call so I shouted again.

"Be quiet!" Rodger's voice floated through the doorway. I slumped down on to the floor in tears. I couldn't believe this. I didn't know whether he loved me or not. I didn't know if he really wanted to hurt me or if he actually cared. Now I was locked in this room...I was stuck at his mercy and I didn't know who he was anymore...

I didn't know who I was anymore. I used to be a loving wife and a caring mother. I used to be sociable and clever. I had good qualifications and I could have fun with the girls at the same time. I was Maria Fletcher and then I'd met Vincent and I'd become Maria Harper. I'd changed for the better when I'd met Vincent.

Then everything changed. I'd become a terrified and overly dependant lover. I was a bad mother who didn't do anything right for her son. I was screwing up everything I'd ever worked for. I was being hurt by a man I'd trusted so much... My life wasn't worth living anymore.

* * *

Owen Harper 

It was early morning and the sun was just beginning to rise. I knew my way pretty well around the town and I could locate the police station easy enough. It was a big, imposing, grey building. I hesitated slightly when I was standing outside. I tried to think about what I was going to say.

Slowly, I made my way inside. There was a big built man sitting behind a desk doodling on a notepad. He glanced occasionally towards the clock on the wall and it was apparent to me that he was nearing the end of his shift.

"Excuse me?" I said tentativly. The man looked up curiously and then noticed me hovering by the door.

"Hello there, kiddo," he said kindly, "Can I help you?"

"Erm...I hope so," I said coming closer to the desk. My clothes were sticking to me because of the rain. My head was still throbbing from hitting the wall and I felt a bit dizzy. The man must have noticed it and hurried out from behind the desk and led me through to a small room nearby. He sat me down in a chair by the coffee table.

"What happened?" he asked gently.

"I...I..." I stuttered, not sure what I should be saying.

"Take it slowly," the man insisted, putting a hand on my arm. I bit my lip and rocked back and forth agitatedly.

"It started after...after my Dad died," I said carefully, "And then...then my Mum met another man. And he...he hurts me."

"Was it him that did that to you?" he said gesturing to my face. I raised a hand and touched the tender skin around my eye.

"Yeah..." I admitted. It was such a relief to be talking to someone like this.

"He...he came home today...and...and he...my Mum...he..." I burbled. I wasn't sure how to say this. I didn't have any evidence other than what I'd heard and guessed.

"He hurt your Mum?" the man asked. I nodded and then dissolved into hysterical sobs. I couldn't stop them and I was so glad to finally be able to talk about this. Maybe now things would start to work out.

"You've done the right thing," the man said, "I'll make sure something gets done." I smiled weakly.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

"What's your name?"

"Owen..." I said, "Owen Harper."

"That's good. I'm Allan. I'll be back in a minute. I'm going to get someone to help me. And maybe we should get you to hospital-."

"But he won't be able to hurt us again?" I asked, anxious.

"No. No, he won't."


	13. Chapter 13

* * *

Maria Harper

I had never felt more alone in my entire life. I had nobody to turn to now. Everyone I loved was gone. Vincent was dead... Owen was probably seriously injured by Rodger. Rodger himself had betrayed my trust and hurt me beyond forgiveness. I didn't know how to deal with this. There was nothing I could do anymore.

"Let me out!" I yelled furiously, summoning all my remaining strength, "Let me out you bastard!"

"Don't talk to me like that you little bitch!" Rodger snarled from the other side of the door. I felt my heart pounding with hurt and fear. I'd trusted him so much and after he... well, my trust was destroyed for good.

"Let me see my son!" I demanded. I had to see him. I had to know he was okay.

"You sent him away! He's gone!" Rodger snapped back, his voice muffled slightly by the door.

"But...but...no! I didn't! Why would I?" I asked with hysteria seeping into my voice.

"He's probably dead!" Rodger snapped impatiently, "Move on! You don't need him! It'll just be you and me from now on!"

"No!" I sobbed, "He's not dead! I never sent him away!"

"You did. You just don't remember. You told me to take him away from you!" Rodger insisted.

"I didn't!"

"You did!" Rodger yelled. I fell silent. Had I...? Could I have sent him away...? Was that what was behind the fog in my mind, covering all the events after Rodger...after he... I didn't even want to think what he did to me. I just wanted my my little boy back... I wanted my son. I wanted so badly to tell him I was sorry and help him. Together we could sort out all this crap. He's a good kid though...he'll be alright. He had to be. He _had _to be.

* * *

Owen Harper 

I sat quietly on the bed I'd been sent to in the hospital. One of the officers had taken me there to check I didn't have concussion or anything. It turned out I didn't but I'd have to be careful because I had "suffered a head-knock" as they put it.

"Is there anyone you'd like us to phone?" a kindly nurse asked.

"I...I want my-," I began before stopping and thinking, "No."

"We need to call someone for you because you're-," the nurse said before she was cut off by the police officer, Allan.

"He's here because he turned up at the station. We're working on getting his mother," he said. I watched as the nurse's expression turned from mild confusion to deepest pity. I didn't want her pity. I wanted her to leave me alone. I wanted to cry but...but I couldn't let her see me crying because she'd try and offer me professional help.

"Can I talk to you for a bit, Owen?" Allan asked gently. I looked at him for a moment, thinking over the question.

"Yeah...I guess," I answered slowly. Allan looked at the nurse and she bit her lip.

"Are you sure that's a-," she started.

"I want to talk to the officer," I said firmly trying to hide the tremble in my voice. The nurse sighed and walked out of the room.

"Now...Owen," Allan began, "Tell me everything. I just need a statement from you. There's officers going round to your house now to pick up your Mum."

"They won't take her away from me, will they?" I asked anxiously. I didn't want that to happen. I still needed her and if I lost her I'd have nobody to turn to.

"They'll take her to hospital if she's sick like you said," Allan said comfortingly, "But for now, do you think you can tell me what happened, right from the beginning. I'm going to record it on tape, okay?" With that he produced a tape recorder and I stared at it.

"But..."

"You're Mum or her boyfriend won't hear it. Just tell me what happened," Allan said, "Take as long as you need."

I did. I told him _everything. _I told him everything that had happened since I was five years old, everything I remembered anyway. Allan occasionally asked a question and then it was over. I cried more then than I had in years.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sorry, I took longer than I wanted to with this chapter and it is shorter than I would have wanted but here we go. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. Thanks!**

Maria Harper

Shouting...swearing...ultimatums. That's sums up what happened at about six o' clock that morning. I looked out of the window and saw the police car and the ambulance sitting out on the street. There were people across the street peering out behind their curtains trying to get the latest gossip.

"Please exit the building with your hands on your head!" the shout of a policeman came. I felt my blood run cold; someone knew what had been going on in the household. I slumped down the wall and covered my face with my hands in a feeble act of defense. I was scared because I was going to have to answer difficult questions... I was going to have to explain myself over and over to strangers and what if they took my son away? What if they took my little boy away from me? What would I do then?

Before I knew it someone was banging on the bedroom door.

"Is anyone in there? Hello?" came a woman's yell. I froze. I could stay silent and not let on I was there...but they'd probably find me anyway.

"Yes..." I said quietly. Then the door was being kicked open. Everything was happening in such an incomprehensible rush and I couldn't make head nor tail of my surroundings. Someone took my arm and helped me to my feet.

"Are you okay?" said a pretty blond officer, "We're gonna take you to hospital and get you checked over. Okay?"

"No!" I begged, "Not the hospital! Please!" I didn't want people probing into my life and then asking awkward questions.

"We have to."

"But...what about my son?" I asked urgently.

"Owen?"

"Yes! Have you got him?"

"Yes, we do. He's at the hospita-."

"Is he alright?" I asked desperatly. Why was he in hospital? Why?

"He'll be fine. Please, Mrs Harper, just come with me," the woman urged, "You're safe now."

"Okay..." I mumbled weakly and let her lead me out of the house in a trance.

* * *

Owen Harper

I was allowed to see my Mum in the evening. I was led to her room by the nurse. The nurse stayed in the room while I spoke to Mum but I didn't mind that much. I hovered by the door way for a moment and just looked at her. She looked so lost and scared. She wasn't the woman from the photos I'd seen from when I was a baby.

"Mum...?" I whispered. She looked around at me and her face crumpled in pain.

"_Owen_!" she muttered and tried to get out of her bed to help me but the nurse tutted and Mum let me run to her instead.

"Mum!" I cried, "I...I thought..."

"I'm so sorry Owen! I'm so sorry!" she sobbed holding me so close I could barely breathe. It felt good to have her back but somehow I couldn't forget the fearful look in her eyes. Something inside me wanted to hate her and not to trust her. All the memories of her drunken moments were filling my head but I so badly wanted to pretend it was all okay. I wanted to pretend none of the pain had ever happened and that we were a normal mother and son. But we weren't. We never could be, not with all the horrors behind us.

"I love you Mum. And I just want you to promise you're not going to send me away again," I said slowly.

"I didn't!"

"You did!"

"I was sick, Owen! You don't know what being-," she broke off suddenly and then her eyes filled with tears, "I'm sorry Owen, I'm so sorry." She kept repeating that phrase over and over but I knew she couldn't keep any promises. Her life would turn to the alcohol and she'd be swearing and shouting at me, all hope of a new future forgotten.

My tenth birthday for example, she was so drunk and the whole house was filled with her shouting at me, "I love you because you're my son but that doesn't mean I have to like you." That's just how it was in our house... love deep down but above all was the shouting and hatred caused by pain, fear, loss and alcohol... Some things never got better.


	15. Chapter 15

Maria Harper

It was a difficult time for me. Owen seemed to be coping really well and hardly seemed to be having any difficulty adjusting to living with my sister. I was proud of him for doing that without complaint. He was a good kid.

I was put under test after test to monitor my progress in the hospital. They said I'd gone into fear and stress induced shock after what Rodger had done. That might be true but I didn't care. I just wanted to go home. Nighttimes were very long in the hospital because I had no alcohol to lull myself into sleep. I had to wait for my body to drop off naturally but it had been so long since I'd done that; it was almost like I'd forgotten how.

Owen spent a lot of time by my side after he came home from school. He'd just sit there and babble on about his day at school and pretend everything between us was alright. It wasn't alright though, that was the problem. Everything was far from alright. I went along with his little game anyway, for his sake and partly because I wanted to hide from the truth too.

Every so often a police officer would come to question me about what had happened over the last few years. They wanted to know everything so they could build a court case against Rodger. I told them everything they wanted to know - nothing more, nothing less.

Two months later it was all over and I was free to go home. I stood outside the hospital for a few moments beside my son and just let the wind whistle around me. We called a taxi and we were home in a matter of minutes.

"What happens now?" Owen asked quietly, looking out of the window and not meeting my gaze.

"I…" I began but I broke off there. I didn't honestly know what happened next. I bit my lip slightly, "We'll start again," I concluded finally.

"Really?" Owen muttered, still looking out of the window. He didn't believe me. He couldn't trust me anymore. Would he ever be able to trust me?

* * *

Owen Harper

I stayed with an aunt I hadn't seen for years for the time Mum was in hospital. It was a hard time because she was my Dad's sister and she was a bit distant with me because she hadn't see me for so long and her brother was dead. I spent a lot of time with Mum when I wasn't at school. I was still nursing the hope that things would be alright in the end. Maybe that wasn't to happen but I could pretend. I knew how to pretend and there was a shelter in that pretence. I could hide behind a face that was braver than the real me inside.

It's a hard time to look back on because every time I think of it my stomach knots and I feel dizzy. The fear I felt then never really left me. Things were no better when Mum got out of the hospital and the whole case with Rodger was closed. I didn't really find out the outcomes but he was charged with Sexual Assult, ABH and Child Abuse.

Mum went back to a life of alchohalism and it hurt me to watch that and know there was nothing I could do to stop it. She would spend days doing it and she didn't get a job. We were living on benifit money or something. It was hard but I got by.

After the Summer holidays I was starting Year Seven. My first year at Secondary School and I was nervous. I stood in front of the mirror in my new uniform and smiled slightly. Now I had a chance to make my life better. I could get qualifications and make something of myself.

Mum wasn't awake when I ran a comb through my hair, grabbed a slice of toast and hurried out of the house with a heavy school bag. The school was a daunting place. There were so many people and even with "Buddies" showing us around I feared I'd get lost.

I met a boy called Sebastian Drake (everyone called him Seb) and we quickly made friends. He was a fairly quiet boy but he was good fun. We hung around together at break and lunch, sometimes going to play football with the other boys.

Nobody asked about my home-life much but if they did I just told them I lived with my Mum. That's all they needed to know.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: This is the last chapter of this! Thank you very much to everyone who's been here to support me through this story and I hope you've all enjoyed this. I liked writing this one because it's been on my mind since "Adam" in series two. Thanks for reading and reviewing, it means a lot! Thank you and goodbye for now!**

Maria Harper

Much of the next few months became a blur. There was nothing I could do to stop the past coming back to haunt me and I had to fight all my demons on my own. I was just glad that Owen seemed able to fend for himself when I wasn't there.

I found myself spending hours at the pub after my new job in the supermarket. I would stay there for hours in to the night and struggle to get up in the morning and try to make myself presentable for work at one in the afternoon and then the cycle would start again.

That's just how it was in our lives. I waited at the pub almost hoping to find another man to love me as Rodger had in the beginning. Instead someone offered me drugs and I'm ashamed to say I accepted them. There was some sort of release that came with taking cocaine. It was an expensive habit but it made me feel good, if only for a short time.

I never told my son about my habit and but I think he noticed. I hated him knowing how much of a failure I was. I made sure I was locked in the bathroom before I used anything so he wouldn't be able to see me at it.

He seemed to be doing very well at school. He focused and tried hard to make things work out. Sometimes he was still awake in the late of night studying and revising. He never took friends round to the house but he did go out and have a good time playing outside. He joined the school basketball team for a while, which was good to see.

I did wish he wasn't living with me though. I know that sounds really bad but if he wasn't there then I wouldn't have had to worry about him seeing his mother developing a habit and letting it rule her life. If he wasn't with me he might have some chance at a normal childhood.

We did have a big fall out one night not long before his sixteenth birthday when he asked if we could go somewhere for the weekend just to get away from things. I think he was maybe hoping to patch up the tears in our relationship. I flared up and shouted at him about how we didn't have the money to just go away on holiday.

"Just because you need your fix so you can get through the day!" Owen yelled at me, standing up at the table looking furious.

"Owen!" I snapped at him, trying to gain the authority a parent should have.

"I don't want to listen to your excuses!" he snarled, "I don't want to know why you started taking coke but-."

"Be quiet! You're lucky to even be living here!" I retorted hotly.

"Who says I want to?" Owen demanded, "I went to the police when I was younger because I thought we could make things better! But you just end up ruining everything again!"

"That's not true!" I denied, even though I knew it _was_ true.

"It is true! You just don't want to see that! I'm fed up of this, Mum! You never even speak to me anymore! You're too wrapped up in your own life that you can't think about anyone else!"

"You're my son, Owen, and I love you! Why can't you see that?" I shouted at him.

"Because that's the way it's always been! It's always been you telling me that you loved me but you don't _like _me! You said it yourself over and over! Usually when your out of your mind with alcohol and coke!" Owen retorted. There was a fire in his eyes that I hated to see there and worse still it was me that put it there.

"Owen, listen to me!" I demanded but he shook his head.

"No! I don't want to listen to you! You've never said anything worth listening to! You just shut me out and ignore me! You don't listen to me! You go fall in love with some bastard that hurts the both of us and I hung around through all that! I was there for you and what do I get in return? I don't want much, Mum, I just wish you cared!"

"I do care, Owen-."

"No! You don't!"

"Well! Maybe you'd be better off somewhere else!" I yelled in fury.

"Maybe I would!" he agreed angrily.

* * *

Owen Harper

She didn't care. She never cared and now I don't want her to care. If she were to care now it would all be pretend. She doesn't want to have me around and I no longer want to be around her. Yes, she's my Mum but from where I'm standing that doesn't mean a thing.

My sixteenth birthday was one of the hardest days of my life. It should have been a day of celebration but it was a day of tears and pain. She threw me out. She packed my bags and told me I was old enough to fend for myself in the world if I was so sure I didn't need her. She could have let me pack my own bags but she did it for me and I guess that was the nicest thing she'd done for me in a long, long time.

She'd phoned her sister the night before and arranged for me to go to Cardiff to live there. I could go to school there and complete my education and I could leave Mum to do what ever she wanted.

"Good bye Owen," she said firmly to me. Tears were filling her eyes and I glared at her. I did, in a way, want to stay because then I wouldn't have to walk away from everything I'd lived around for the last sixteen years; my friends, my school. I'd have to start over again but maybe that would be a good thing.

"I'll probably never see you again, you know that?" I said, watching her for a reaction.

"Probably not," she agreed, "But it's for the best."

"Really? The best for me or for you?" I enquired sadly. Yes, I loved her and I wanted her to get better but she just wouldn't let me.

"Just go Owen," she said turning away from me after dumping my bags out onto the path outside.

"I'm going," I said dejectedly. I fought with the tears that threatened to flow and took a step out of the door, walking away from my past and towards my future. When I next looked back the door was closed. I heard the sobbing from the other side but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't go back. This part of my life was over. I was about to start something new in Cardiff, Wales. Maybe it would be a better thing but in this life there is no space for looking back and regretting. It's time to move forward.

My childhood made me who I am and there's nothing I can do about it now. Dad once said to me that I'd grow up being a happy loved child and I'd never find myself in a household where I wasn't cared for. Well, like the boy said at the funeral, Daddy was wrong.


End file.
